


Dragon Slayer

by geekmama



Series: Honorable Intentions [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmama/pseuds/geekmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As activity winds down at the crime scene, Mycroft considers the <i>additional factor</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Slayer

**Author's Note:**

> For the "Green" prompt.
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> **********************************

 

The night was a black one, and cold for early summer, but there had been some little danger involved, and an international incident to avoid, reason enough for Mycroft to have taken a hand in overseeing matters. But of course there had been also the _additional factor_.

The police -- Lestrade, Donovan, and even Anderson -- had contributed in their usual workmanlike fashion, and he’d observed that Sherlock and Donovan had settled their differences somewhere along the line. More or less. At least Sherlock was once again willing to acknowledge Sergeant Donovan’s existence, and she, for her part, had not addressed him as “Freak” all evening. Very likely the hostage situation Sherlock had helped to resolve back in March had broken the ice, Sergeant Donovan having been one of said hostages and sustaining injury at the hands of the perpetrator. The man had paid dearly for his daring. Sherlock had not been pleased.

His little brother could be so impulsive at times.

Yet there it was again: the _additional factor._ Mycroft had been… not doubtful, but _uncertain_ of Sherlock’s current capabilities before he’d reached tonight’s scene. Sherlock and John Watson had not been precisely idle in the last few months, having solved no less than nine cases for very high profile clients. Yet none of those cases had posed any sort of challenge to Sherlock, and Mycroft had been forced to conclude that his brother was doing them strictly for the money.

Rather sordid. And hardly conducive to keeping Sherlock’s valuable skills honed to something near perfection.

The development could only be laid at the door of Dr. Molly Hooper.

Mycroft did not object to marriage as such. His own parents had a most successful one, after all. But he was still quite convinced that the _feelings_ involved were a distinct liability. In a world that needed a blunt instrument -- a _dragon slayer_ \-- like Sherlock Holmes, the more tender emotions should be discouraged, if not entirely suppressed.   

But this was hardly the first time Sherlock had failed to heed his advice.

Things were wrapping up. Lestrade said, with a grin, “All right, we’re good to go,then, I think. Shall we all repair to the pub for a _debriefing_?”

Donovan and Anderson readily agreed to this, and John Watson said, “I’m in -- Mary won’t mind, she’s already in bed. Gracie’s still not sleeping through the night and we’re both generally knackered by this time. But the adrenaline, yeah? I could use a drink.”

Lestrade turned to Sherlock with something of a sly look. “And what about you, mate?”

Sherlock appeared to deprecate Lestrade’s amusement, but only to a degree. “No,” he said. “My pathologist is off shift in an hour, and I gather from her occasional texts she’s had a difficult time of it this evening. I believe I’ll meet her at Bart’s and take her home.”

Lestrade, foregoing any further teasing, presumably in light of what might be considered a “difficult time of it” in Dr. Hooper’s line of work, said merely, “Give her our love, then. It was good tonight, Sherlock. You and John, well, not sure what we would’ve done without you.”

“Thank you, George,” Sherlock drawled. “It’s good of you to say so.”

John chuckled and said to Sherlock, “See you at the surgery in the morning, then?”

“Yes. The momentous Removal of the Stitches. I’ll come along to lend her moral support.”

John rolled his eyes. “Lord love us. Tomorrow, then.” He looked over at Mycroft and gave a friendly wave goodnight.

Sherlock cracked a smile as John and the others departed

Mycroft came to stand beside him. “So, Sherlock,” he said, sweetly, “A retreat to Miss Hooper’s charms and the comforts of domestic bliss. Not bored yet, little brother?”

Sherlock slowly turned to him, eyes narrowing, making a brief but uncomfortably discerning study of Mycroft’s face. Mycroft carefully schooled his expression.

But Sherlock’s lips curled contemptuously. “You’re jealous!” he said. “ _Envious_ . Bloody _green_ with it.”

Mycroft sniffed. “Don’t be absur--”

“ _That’s_ why you came out tonight. You thought I was losing my touch.”

Mycroft raised a brow, and was pleased at the calm in his voice. “You did well tonight, I admit. But Sherlock, caring is still not an advantage.”

But Sherlock only looked at him with increasing pity, and finally said, “Good night, brother mine. Enjoy your solitude and brandy -- _and_ your cold bed.”  And he walked away.

Mycroft, for a moment, struggled against some (quite unsuppressable) negative emotion. But he quickly pulled himself together. Sherlock’s safety and happiness were still an imperative, after all. Dr. Hooper’s addition to the equation did not appear to throw off the final balance at present. One could not, of course, foresee the future. But Sherlock, ever reckless in the pursuit of his objectives, appeared to be determined to take the risk.

  
  
~.~


End file.
